Poem Hunter
Be There
(04 October 1943 / Germany)

Be There

I hold you tight my love,
across the violent sea.
They've gone to certain hell,
sunk like a wounded ship
that rang its final bell
while lightning from above
struck all the free.

Monsoons of salty tears
make up new waterfalls,
you mourn a precious life
and pray that, as it nears
you'll have the iron balls
to play abandoned wife
and talk to me.

I ask no sweet return
nothing in gold,
but when the Gods adjourn
I'm there to hold
that soft and fragrant you
in endless time,
that promised sky is blue
so let us climb.

No tree would be too tall
too hard no task.
If there is need to fall
I'll be your mask.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

Tear-jerkingly wonderful. It is. t x
I've been missing your emotional, imagey stuff, Herbert. Welcome back, and what a corker!